Verve

“Ah! Arin, there you are. Come come - we have much to discuss.” King Aster bowed from his throne, as the Seraph reappeared at the end of the entry hall. The large buck carried with him a satchel of goods, bare of his usual regalia; quite possibly the first time Arin has seen him without his jewels. Instead, he bore a simple gold, ruby, and fire opal circlet on his head in its place, which fit snug between his antlers. Umbra gave the Knight a quick nod from his winged side - before turning to depart.

“Wait!” Arin called after her, looking to the white and gold buck for confirmation; “Can Umbra come with us? I could use some moral support. I’m not the best healer, as much as I’d like to be.”

The King stepped down to join his student, thinking in idle contemplation. His majestic voice eventually broke the silence, nodding as he agreed. “If she has no prior engagements, I see no reason why she can not join our expedition. We will be in the company of several Elite Bucks this eve; we are treading beyond the castle walls, to a favorite grove of mine. The journey is short, and we have plenty of knowledge to review before sleep beckons.”

Umbra’s smile soon returned, as she rejoined her partner. “I believe I have no calls to beckon me.”

“Wonderful. I’m quite eager to move myself - I have not left the safety of Silversun in… quite possibly, decades. Perhaps it was during my last visit to the Halls of Spring, near what Equestrians call ‘Hollow Shades’. Alas, idling about the past will solve no problems; to the south.” Aster’s long stride set him on a brisk pace into the entry hall proper, the duo quick to fall in line. Before they even realized, they had been surrounded by six guards, led by General Falon himself.

“By the feathers; how do you do that?!” Arin nearly clutched his heart, as he realized just how quickly they were ambushed. Even Umbra, the usually perceptive mare - was nearly caught unaware. Her ears had twitched just a moment too soon - and she raised a brow in confusion. The throne room was bare of souls - wasn’t it?

Falon gave a small smile, falling back to step in stride with the Seraph. “Have you by any chance considered that the branches of trees above us - the roof of the Throne Room, may share burdens beyond leaves?”

The General raised his left leg; a small bracer gleamed with three emeralds in a point. Confused, this did little to convince the Knight. He turned back to gaze at the branches lining the roof; indeed, there were large gaps where an agile buck may be able to stand… but their hooves were so dainty! How could they even crawl up onto the-...

When he turned back, Falon was gone. “What the?...”

Umbra bumped his side with a hoof, pointing with her horn at the buck far above. He watched quietly from the heavy branches of the Court’s throne room, marbling quietly at the stunned Seraph below.

“Arin, please - keep in stride with me. We only have one day; we mustn’t tarry.” King Aster pulled Arin’s gaze back towards him - and when his eyes flicked back to the boughs of the throne room, General Falon was gone.

“Boo.”

“BY THE FEATHERS!” Arin fell right on his wings, the feathery appendages flapping noisily against the floor. The usually mirthless general couldn’t help but chuckle; the struggling Seraph quickly righted to his legs with Umbra’s help.

“A strange enchantment; I am assuming it is a specialty of the thicket battalion to produce a grappling hook such as the one you carry on demand?” Umbra gave the amused buck a curious eye, as Arin stilled his beating heart. Their pace soon resumed, quickly rejoining the King’s side.

“Indeed, though it is not entirely restrained to our corps. A more common version is often granted to field legionnaires when travel is key. Though it lacks two of the primary enchantments my own battalion carries on our own bracers to allow us to move so quietly among the boughs. The rest is intense training, often spanning years, to achieve such refined grace.” The moonlight yawned before them, as the now small herd - with a Seraph and mare in company - graced the entry gardens once more.

Continuing south, the King began to cover the full course he planned for today; including light study sessions for the following evenings.

“To begin, we will turn our attention towards the most immediate flaws in your approach. I believe the key element you are missing, my student, is your inability to ‘connect’ with your patient’s magic ember. Namely speaking, there are two parts to restoration magic; the power and knowledge of the caster, and the astral connection all spirits share. The more zealous the spirit, the more potent the effect.”

“Wait, so… I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time? Or… something?” Arin frowned; he felt somewhat accomplished with the success he had, when he studied on his own. But none of the Court Mages of Alma Sol, nor the Archdruid Healers, or Grand Priests spoke of a connection of this sort.

The group rounded a bend towards the western districts; ignoring the town homes, they led a trail towards the old housing district. There, many deer heads bowed and clamored at their King as they passed - curious eyes following the armed Seraph and gray pony while they travelled. Umbra paid them no mind; she had experience with this kind of treatment from her time in Erenorn, after all.

“In practice, yes. You have probably been taught to brute force the spells, expending copious magic and resources to restore life. In truth, that’s the old methods of teaching, something my Father was quick to correct in his musings. You see, the soul within your body - the Astral form you take upon in your dreams, it is the true form of your being. By channeling magic into the wound, using your experience and knowledge - you can knit the flesh at a high cost. But, if you instead turn that same magic inwards, and embrace the spirit’s bind to their magic ember, you essentially are granted a mold to fill; which intensifies the healing effect.”

The massive gates of Western Silversun loomed before them, the original entrance to the now sprawling civilization behind that had soared into life over the thousands of years it stood. And it looked the part, too - the stone here was smooth and washed by rain, weathered from the ages - vines and leaves lashed into the marle with ferocity, almost hiding the golden swirls of old architecture behind the natural beauty of life.

The Guards at the gate bowed in kind, as the group of nearly a dozen tread beyond the Castle walls, and into the White Tail’s forest. Here, the King pushed onwards along an old deer trail north; the party quick to follow his lead.

For a while, the ancient buck was silent - simply guiding them along the old path. The only sound seemed to be coming from both the pony and seraph , as the occasional overgrown fauna ruffled their fur and flicked against their skin. The King seemed entirely unphased by the bush; in fact, the leaves seemed to bend at his step, parting with respect as Aster trekked onwards.

“Hey, Falon - why do the bushes do that? And the branches, too.” He pointed to the stepping King, the General making a quick effort to quell his curiosity.

“All plants bow to the Forest King in his realm. Even the very trees sway for him. In other words, Aster’s control of life and growth is very powerful, much like his father. It’s part of the crowning ceremony’s bond.”

“Ah, this makes sense. When I was an Umbrum, the shadows would relish in my very presence, often coalescing at my whim to blot out the light,” Umbra said quietly, much to the worry of Falon. When she saw his eyes grow concerned, she made an adjustment to her statement; “Of course, that is my past self. Now, I stand boldly in the light as a true pony. My history still gives me some of the shadow’s power, but nothing more.”

“It is strange to think that even an Umbrum can change; in my study of your former kind, I found that nearly none of the remnants had an astral body left to cling to. Much like the Dark Kin of the Deepwoods, the spiders of what Celestia calls the Driderhold - and undead themselves, lack an astral form.” King Aster frowned, drawing another question from the Seraph.

“Is there a difference between an astral form and a soul?”

“No; in truth, they are one in the same. When you sleep and dream, your spirit temporarily wanders the dream realm; think of this not as the spirit plane, but an echo of the Prime. In truth, the stars themselves are where the soul lingers when you pass. I had spent many twilight’s eve garnering this knowledge through the careful eye of my father.” Aster paused at a cut in the clearing, and with a careful thought - continued north, along the route less traveled.

“I see…” Arin rubbed his head; his kind knew little of spirits or souls, only the pieces that they deemed most essential. “So, what exactly is a soul, then?”

“Like many things, it’s a mirror of your physical body - or with time, the physical body is the mirror of the spirit. While the being you are is the creation of flesh and bone, it’s made in the image of one’s soul; and souls change with time, to mimic your growth. There is a medical side, as well - it’s not all magic, nor is every word I speak fact. But we are not speaking of surgeries, as healing is primarily the restoration of one’s body through the astral form. Think of it like a light you host inside of you. When you die, the light begins to drift to the stars; Resurrection calls the spirit back to the body. The longer the time between death and the present, the more intense one’s call must be. These are represented in one’s Book of Life.”

At the end of Aster’s explanation, Arin simply wanted more knowledge, as the topic became intense. “That explains so much… is that why Seraphs have trouble casting a three page Resurrection? And why does it take the shape of a book?”

“The spell itself can have an infinite number of forms, depending on the Caster’s own beliefs. If you had never seen a book, you would instead summon what you believe is the best way to store knowledge - a slate, or even what you believe a mind would look like. And yes, this is part of the cause; without a proper connection to another’s ember, the spell must be forced. This is why your magic seems in such short supply - if anything, it’s much the opposite. You have an abundance of magic welling within you, Arin. You are simply not efficient in its use.”

“...And one day of training is enough to make me proficient at… whatever you’re going to teach me?”

The group finally broke into a small clearing, at the sound of a babbling brook and a tumbling waterfall in a crook of the Smokey Mountains. The wildlife here sung in long calls and chirping songs of birds, the tiny meadow running fresh with small rabbits and squirrels. Umbra eyed one with hunger, and perhaps sensing the danger - the little bunny fled. The pond itself of which the small waterfall filled was pristine and clear, fish of all shapes and sizes swimming in the untouched waters. Fireflies buzzed happily, bees tending to flowers in the quiet of the moonlight. The very flowers leading in glowed softly in the dark, giving the spring an otherworldly feel.

“It’s beautiful,” Arin said, as the bucks surrounding them broke for the edges of the woods. Within seconds, and with curious flicks of their wrists - they had nearly effortlessly vanished into the branches of the thick trees. Not a leaf fell from their act, hardly a breeze stirring the leaves. Umbra was simply surprised that the air was somewhat pleasant here; not a flake of snow had lined the floor or tumbled from the sky.

“This is a natural treasure of the Fey. Here, our ties to its magic are at their strongest; beautiful landmarks shine brightest in the wilds, and thus, they stand undaunted by the aegis of time, and are of great importance to our world. In the Prime, these simple spots are beautiful bastions of natural growth. And as such, the bonds between the Prime and Feywilds are actually powerful, serving as a portal between our worlds, when one stares deep into the pool. This is where few ponies often tread into the Fey, and unguarded as they are, they likely perish as prey to the many great beasts that prowl these woods. Thus, the need for the Battalion thicket; and why trespassers are interned for a year, to teach them the vast importance of staying out of our affairs.” King Aster approached the water, turning to face the Seraph and mare with grace.

“Why not just send them back, then? Why imprison them at all, if you intend to release them?” Arin crossed his arms, the King simply shook his head.

“We used to let ponies return with proper guidance immediately, but this led to small groups wishing to venture into our world to explore. Thus, a punishment - often given with a chance for rebuttal, was deemed necessary. We do not torture or kill innocents; my kin are kind, and respect all life. This is why the accommodations in our cells are more than fair, and the period is often long - with few interactions, to further invoke the sense that ponies do not belong. Those who stay the full year are often released with a firm warning - any who return will be slain, with whoever graces their company at the time.”

Arin felt a little nervous at that; did they really kill second offenders on sight? What if somepony - someone was a repeat offender unintentionally? Like Pumpkin - she often explored these woods to forage for local herbs, as she once stated at the beginning of their journey.

“What about those who live in these woods, and find themselves here unexpectedly?”

“Ah, I believe I know who you speak of. This is why I granted Pumpkin - the mare often spotted in my lands in the briefest of flashes - the title of Ambassador. In truth, her exploratory nature had led to many sightings, but no captures in the past. And knowing of her plight to save our world, I decided to grant her clearance to be here, seeing as she had the chance of visiting again regardless of my wishes or not.”

So many questions! But before Arin could ask a dozen more, Aster raised a cloven hoof. “Now, I believe it is time we focus on your healing capabilities. Let’s start with a simple exercise; what do you call your strongest healing spell? Explain how it works.”

“Er… Antithesis. It allows me to heal a pony’s wounds quickly at a short distance, if I know what’s wrong - or if I’m feeling wasteful, crush bones.” Arin loosened his shoulders, preparing for practice.

“A good name from your world; it explains simply what it does. I have this very same spell in my repertoire - though my father named it Balance. When you connect to the creature’s magical ember, the distance should be significant - how short is your range?”

Arin frowned, turning his lead to the left; looking at Umbra. With a single step to the right, he raised his hand at the somewhat bored unicorn. “About here.”

The King was definitely not impressed. “In Equis tongue, five hooves? I… that is exceedingly low. Perhaps one day simply isn’t enough…”

The King turned to the pool, raising a hoof to his chin. Where does one even begin with this? It took him a moment to come up with a plan, before stepping back into the lake.

“Close your eyes, Arin. We will practice the basics first. By my boughs, please be a quick learner.” The buck whispered the last part to himself, mostly - but still, Arin could hear the flustered King above the waterfall’s light crash.

This didn’t give him much in the way of hope. Regardless, he was quick to obey, doing just that. The calming meadow was plunged into darkness, leaving him standing idly in the moonlight.

“When you connect to an Ember, you’re seeking a source of magic - not to drain or squeeze, but to embrace gently. Use your catalyst - for us bucks, it would be our antlers, or ponies, their horns - and grow power within it. Then, simply wave it forward, and listen with your spiritual self. Even in the dark, you can sense an ember - and softly cup that flame in your magical grasp. I say be gentle, as pulling at another’s ember will move you towards them, not the other way around. As you are essentially binding your physical self to their spiritual body, albeit temporarily.”

Obeying the King’s advice, he tried to do just that. Instead, he slapped his glowing hand into Umbra’s very sharp horn when he waved it around, just as the dark mare stepped towards his side. Instantly, his eyes shot open - having punctured a fine hole through his palm from the unexpected contact.

“By the Stars! I’m sorry, Arin. I did not intend to interfere; I simply wished to stay close.” Umbra frowned, reaching a hoof forward to cup his injured limb. Aster, seeing this, flashed his version of Antithesis across Arin’s form - and instantly, the pain vanished. This gave him time to think, and question once more.

“Wait, Aster - when I’m doing this… I’m trying to connect to a creature’s ember? Is this how unicorns could tell I had magic, forever ago? This spell… it doesn’t exist in Erenorn. Our court mages know nothing of it. Even our priests seem simply unaware - why?” The Seraph looked over his palm, staring in curiosity. “This spell could tell I wasn’t truly Inert, yet… not a soul in my world had developed this technique.”

“I do not know of your realm’s magic, Arin. But to connect to another’s ember, it typically requires an understanding of emotion; zeal, spirit, empathy, and so forth. These are key traits to feeling both magic in a creature, and in channeling life. The greater one’s spirit, the greater one’s potential in casting healing magic. It’s why potential may shift with time, or stress - it takes a truly innocent heart to be able to wield the light so brazenly.”

Arin went silent; he was innocent? How? He didn’t feel innocent. How did this relate to him in any way? He’s killed Seraphs before, several in the past - he’s laid with both Celestia and Luna in the pursuit of love. Sure, he was naive, and emotionally dim at times - but innocent? What constitutes as innocent?

When Aster saw his hesitation, the buck’s green aura tilted Arin’s chin up to face him, encouraging him with a kind smile. “Let’s embrace this in a new light. Ponies are naturally susceptible to the magics of love, friendship, and hope. It’s why they’re so quick to join at times, or hold their spirits high in the dark - and make friends aplenty, as it was in times of yore. Before the Entity fell on the world, of course. This abyssal monstrosity brought disharmony, and split the once unified Starlight’s Peak into the three pony factions, that eventually reformed sometime after their great quest to the East - under Equestria’s Banner, Celestia and Luna’s rule.

“For unicorns, detecting magic within a short range is almost as natural as breathing - but from the history you’ve told me, of your land and Seraphs… They are broken and split at the seams, unable to settle and flourish like ponies have. You are nothing like your kind. A rarity I assume, to grow in such a spectacular fashion. To feel this light within another, do not focus - much the opposite, in fact. Let your mind wander, question, grow - and feel the world as you would see it in your eyes. Umbra, I ask that you give Arin space. Now, let’s try again.”

This… would take a while.